Into the Desert and Back Again: The Travels of a devillish Angel
by SunBathingDragon
Summary: Episode 2.18 was so densely packed with emotions, there were some missing scenes that I would have liked to see. They are also a hommage to the Lucifer/Linda relationship which is not romantic but wonderful.
1. Chapter 1: Beaches are special to us

**Chapter 1: Beaches are special places, aren't they?**

Lucifer had always loved the beach and Santa Monica pier, the sound of the softly crashing waves, mixing with the background humming sound of human amusement. Ah, the smell of fresh ocean air mixing with sweet candy, roasted almonds and popcorn! But now the place felt alien and lonely, despite all the people around him.

His mother was gone. He had knelt in the sand in front of the body she had inhabited and which he had become used to addressing as "Mum". Finally, the danger was over! He felt completely exhausted, tired as never before, even cold, but also strangely - sad. (At least by now he recognized that this was sadness, thanks to Doctor Linda!) To his utter surprise, the original Charlotte Richards was alive, something that his Mum must have taken care of when she left the body she had inhabited. For what reason? The goddess had not cared about humans, this special project of his dad she so despised. Perhaps she had left Charlottes form as a kind of consolation to Amenadiel and him? He sighed. He would never be able to ask her.

Chloe fumed. That Richards woman pissed her off, again! Now she acted completely weird, as if she did not remember anything! Lucifer had told her that this would not do any good. He knew something and did not let her in on it, which added to her annoyance.

Lucifer looked up to where the detective currently questioned Charlotte with growing frustration, he could see that from her posture and body language. She did not know the full truth. How much easier could things would be if he could just tell her " _my mum's gone now to build up a new universe and surprisingly Charlotte Richards is back in her body and alive!_ " Ha! Lucifer chuckled inwardly, and briefly imagined how this may earn him a second trip to the mental hospital if he blurted that out in front of the precinct colleagues securing the crime scene. And, more important, a worried look from his beloved detective (the latter being the reason for not saying it!). But he also had to protect her from all of his family including him, didn't he? He sighed; the old pain about the necessity to protect Chloe and keep her out of the manipulations of his divine family nagging at his heart like a badly healed wound.

Lucifer fidgeted with his cufflinks without noticing it. He needed a bit of a time out to process everything. When he'd heard the gunshots ringing he knew what had happened without looking: That the detective had taken down Hector Ruiz after he had shot at Mum, trying to kill her. Lucifer could still feel the bullet he had grabbed out of thin air in his pocket. He was not afraid for Chloe any longer. Dan dashing to Charlottes' side and pushing him away in the process was the best proof he could get that the detective was fine, even before she came down to them to question Charlotte, after securing the crime scene on the pier. He even felt a bit sorry for Detective Dan-Douche who had looked so crestfallen with Charlottes exclamation of "… _and_ _who are you...?!_ "

The Devil sighed and took a few steps closer to the shoreline. The sounds of amusement faded and the rhythmic sounds of the waves, the special smell of fresh ocean air and the squeaking sounds of the seagulls took over, soothing his vibrating nerves. Relief washed over him like the soothing wave sounds, accompanied by little, strange chilling showers. No one had been blown up, the flaming sword had indeed worked its magic, after all. He had let all his fear, his worry and the immense sea of sadness where it came to his relationship to Chloe pour into the sword. And it had ignited unfailingly, like one of this funny laser swords in those star wars movies. Who knows if they did not borrow the idea from the divine original! Humankind had a strange way of keeping myths through the ages. Funny how these things turned up in ancient or nowadays fairy tales (such as the star wars movies). A brief flickering memory crossed his mind. " _I cannot read minds, I'm not Jedi_ " he had told Chloe on their very first encounter. A shame she hadn't seen him with the flaming sword! He smiled grimly.

His mother had accepted his desperate plea, " _Let there be light!_ " He had used the very same words he once had used when he had lit up the stars, eons ago, when he had been able and still _interested_ in pleasing her, as a young, invincible, proud archangel, before she had grown cold and uninterested in him or his siblings. Or so it had seemed. Today she had sobbed when she recognized his words! It had felt odd when she had touched his cheek, for the last time. The touch had stirred something in him. To his utter surprise she had taken the chance he had offered to her, instead of wreaking havoc. The a solution for his dilemma had come to him spontaneously: For as much as he had wished to get rid of her since her escape from hell, to stop all her interference in his life, he now felt strangely hollow and left behind by her departure. Damn human emotions all over again! Another unwanted memory popped up. " _If anyone can find a solution it is you, my light-bringer!_ " she had said, just before he had failed so miserably and killed his own brother. This time he had succeeded: The solution had suddenly come out of nowhere to his mind when the need for it, the danger, was greatest.

He stopped at the shoreline to watch the ocean, lost in thoughts as the sun's rays gradually gained longer-wave radiation, causing the light to become more golden. (Of course he remained in a secure distance to the waves, so that the salty water would not ruin his Italian leather shoes!) A swish, and then something hit his right forehead with full force and an audible thud. His head flinched but he reflexively grabbed the projectile with his supernatural reflexes. He flipped into a fighting position, round projectile in hand, eyes briefly flickering red. Only to see that he had cached - a ball. His "attacker" was a little boy about Trixie's age, with curly black hair and large, petrified brown eyes who nearly lost it at the brief sight of his hell gaze. " _Oh no, oh sorry, mister….!_ " The boy's voice was shaking in fear; Lucifer's fine hearing picked up the whispering of the boys' ball-playing mates behind him " _…hey, let's run, Luca, don't approach him!"_ and " _…be careful, there was a shooting on the pier, he might be dangerous..._ "

But the boy named Luca did something Lucifer appreciated, despite this dislike of children in general. He took responsibility for his hit, gulped down his fear, moved his chin up and approached him, determined. A second light-blonde tiny boy moved to Luca's side to support him, taking Luca's hand. The brown and the fair boy made an adorable pair. " _I'm sorry, you walked straight into our soccer field, Mister",_ Luca explained. _"We thought you'd have seen us, but obviously you didn't…."_ ,the tiny friend of his piped up. _"It was me who I hit you with the ball, I didn't mean to",_ Luca confessed. _"Are you hurt…are you angry…?"_ he added. " _…'cause you look like hell!_ ", his fair-haired friend blurted out from behind, immediately shushed by Luca. Lucifer softened his stare and relaxed his body.

He hunkered down to avoid towering over the boys. " _Everything is o.k. Other than my pride you did not hurt any part of me_ ", he assured them, as well as himself, after the recent events. Than he held the ball with his outstretched hand for them to take. The boys sighed unison in relief and snatched their ball out of his hands, flickering him a hesitant smile. Within seconds they melted back into the cheering crowd of ball-playing kids. All potential threads by the tall stranger were quickly forgotten as they dived back into their game. Another wave of gratitude hit him while he watched them. These kids now had a chance to grow into adults. Straightforward adults, likely, in the case of the adorable pair of Luca and his tiny friend.

The sun was setting now; he barely noticed. Parents were packing their picnic stuff and called for their kids. The ball playing group fell apart, kid by kid, the last two to leave with their happily chatting parents were the dark-skinned Luca and his fair-haired friend, debating about game strategies and their recent encounter. Luca turned around and beamed at him, waving. _Why did kids so often like me?_ he wondered. Well, at least these boys did not hug him like Trixie always did. Children and their preferences, desires and performances still remained one of the greatest mysteries on earth to him!

Lucifer walked back through the falling darkness towards the blinking lights of the amusement pier, lights now spiked by blue blinking police and ambulance car flashes; towards his equally exhausted detective, still in command of the crime scene. Dan stood opposite to the ambulance on the pier with his back to Chloe. His body language signalled sadness, defeat, confusion. Lucifer felt a puzzling (disgusting!) connection to the douche – he, too, had just lost a loved one.

Lucifer drank in the vision of his detective, with delight and heart-felt gratitude. She was still there. Alive. And commanding – how he _loved_ it when her inner strength shone out of her actions, when she ordered others around. He knew that she mostly did not even notice that she gave orders: She just did what had to be done, and those humans around her usually did what she told them, just because they sensed her competence and inner strength. For him, she always radiated light from within.

Obviously, when he approached her, the detective had just finished to interrogate Charlotte Richards who was now being carried away on a stretcher to an ambulance, clutching her head. Lucifer wondered where the soul of the real Charlotte had been. She must have died just when his Mum had taken over her body. So, her soul must either have resided in the Silver City, or been in Hell. He made a mind note to find out soon where she'd been, and to check if she might be a danger to others like Malcolm had been, turned into a lunatic by his 30 seconds in Hell.

He damn well knew that the detective was not satisfied with his behaviour in this case, not at all! But he would gladly take whatever verbal spanking she had in store for him, as long as she was unhurt and alive. He felt a strong surge to tell her everything, longed to share his burden and loneliness. Before he had met her he did not even recognize that he was lonely. He even felt this strange sensation again, this non-sexual desire to hold her in his arms (and wasn't that weird!): Like he had done after they (no, Maze! he corrected himself) had caught her father's killer. Or on the beach when she had kissed him. Well, it was not non-sexual then…. But still. There was always more than just sex involved when he thought of her. Strange! All of this seemed so far away, like ages ago, when he still had thought their relationship was genuine, untampered with. But now he knew he had to protect her from him, from his messed-up divine family. Had to keep his mouth shut, didn't he? _Didn't he?_

And then she surprised him, again, by what she said. Beaches obviously were special places for them, were they not? It felt as if he had already revealed himself to her when she said, with these wise-old-being eyes she sometimes had, "… _when you think that I do not forgive you, for your flaws and mistakes; when you think that I do not know who you are by now, you're wrong_ ". Looking into her blue-green eyes brought him close to the cracking point. He stammered, barely managing to keep his mouth shut about all he wanted to say, to share with her. "…. _at this point,_ _either you trust me or you don't_ ", Chloe finished with a beautiful tiny, but distant smile. She turned around to take care of the last duties at crime scene, leaving the stricken, exhausted Devil behind who stared after her longingly.


	2. Chapter 2: Phone calls and glassy looks

**Chapter 2: Phone calls and glassy looks**

Lucifer looked at the detectives' retreating figure, her pony tail dancing rhythmically with her steps. He needed to suppress this cosy feeling of warmth that spread through him when he thought of being close to the Detective. Damn, he had been through that already!

He needed to talk about it in one of his next sessions with Linda…. _Bloody hell_ , _Linda!_ _What was it that his mother had done to her?_ He immediately jumped to the conclusion that the slow-down in time must have been a desperate try of Amenadiel to buy time in a live-threatening situation. He grabbed his phone and called Maze, face chat on. It took some time until she answered the call and when he saw his demon, he was taken aback at how dishevelled she looked. Blood was smeared to her clothes and skin and she looked even more hurt than after their fight. " _Is she alive? Is she…?_ " he urged, without preamble.

"… _she's in emergency surgery now as we speak, still, for over an hour now_ ", Maze croaked, and he could not remember when he had least heard so much fear in her voice. He saw only her side profile since she glanced towards the door of the operation room. " _The doctors, they w-won't tell if she'll make it_ ", she whispered desperately, turning her face further away from him to prevent that he saw her so weak. And was that a hiccup sound? Lucifer groaned. " _Which hospital? I'm coming_ _over right away_ ", he replied, the hesitated. " _Ah, listen, mum's gone, left this dimension_ " he added, as if this was of no importance any longer.

" _GOOD! Or nay, BAD!_ " came Maze's growled reply. " _Now I can't kill her myself, the foul reckless bitch!_ " She sounded a bit more like herself, but she still did not fully look at him. " _Before you come over, go to her office and bring some of her stuff, just in case she survives this! She'll probably be in surgery and then be sedated some time. That is, if she does not die_ ", she instructed. Maze now turned towards the camera of her mobile, eyes still glistening, now finally taking in his exhausted look, lifting an eyebrow. " _Ok, I will_ ", he finished the call, before she had a chance to add something like " _you look like crap_ ". He knew he did, no need to tell him.

The office door was open, its handle smeared with blood. Her office was demolished and deserted. But the interior told most of the gruesome story that had happened here just a short while ago and his heart sank. A blood pool on the floor told him where Linda had laid in the end; her dark-rimmed glasses still on the floor. Lucifer winced inwardly. _None_ of this would have happened to her if she had not met _him_! Was there always destruction and danger to those he loved in his wake? He blamed himself. He _should have known_ how reckless and uncaring his mother would be around humans! But she had seemingly gotten on well with Linda… how could she do such a thing? Anger boiled up in his guts, he felt his outer appearance flicker. Unfortunately, the target of this anger was gone. He tried to control himself, sighed, picked up her glasses from the floor and began to pack a few things from the small cupboard. He knew where she had kept her personal things…. their initial carefree times where he had made that deal of "therapy for sex" with her seemed so far, far away!

When he arrived at the hospital he was quickly led to the room where Linda lay, thanks to his indestructible charms (which he radiated even when he did not care to exert it and looked like crap to his opinion). The " _May I help you, sir?_ " of the blonde nurse held a slightly motherly " _wow, he's so cutely dishevelled, I'd take him home if he lets me_ " touch he did not stop to analyse. Maze sat there in a chair, her eyes fixed on her friend, looking through the glass window that separated the ICU floor from the room where Linda lay, wired up with life-monitoring and life-sustaining medical equipment. His demon who usually heard a needle drop in three miles distance did not notice his arrival. She looked so lost that he wordlessly laid his hand on her shoulder.

" _They will just let me go in when she's awake_ ", she whispered in a very un-Maze-like, almost docile fashion. " _They said that every disturbance could still send her over the edge_ "." _Did they say if she'll make it…? What did mm... what injuries does she have?_ " he asked. Maze fired up in an instant. " _Your_ _ **mum**_ (Maze spat the word as if it were a rotting fish) _mainly used that bleeding-light perforation she had on her wrist to torture Linda into giving her_ _ **your**_ _plans!_ " she hissed. " _And you know what? When she still resisted, she took that letter opener you had once gifted her and stabbed her in the gut! She twisted that thing, again and again, until she got out of her what she wanted! They did two hours of emergency surgery on her to fix all the internal damage!_ ". Maze growled, furious, almost besides herself.

" _When I found her, the first thing she'd said to me was '_ I'm sorry! _' Can you believe that? She was sorry! Sorry she couldn't resist any longer in the end, sorry for not keeping your secret!_ " Maze's voice wavered dangerously. As quickly as her rage had started it dissipated again. " _That was what she was concerned about! On the edge of dying…_ ", she added in a whisper, shuddering. Lucifer groaned and closed his eyes; his head was spinning, again, his back aching where he had landed when they had jumped from the pier. Cold showers run over his back repeatedly, draining his energy. He slumped down on the chair besides Maze. Words failed him, he slowly rubbed his face in both hands. The consequences of human fragility in general and of his mothers' recklessness in particular hit him with full force. " _How did you manage to safe her, then…?_ " he inquired in a small voice, to try and channel her anger into supplying information.

Her story confirmed his earlier assumptions. " _Where is Amenadiel now?_ " Lucifer enquired. " _No idea_ ", came Maze's reply, " _probably relishing in his regained powers…?_ _Anyway, he did do it, in the end_. _It's all that matters._ " " _Yes, that's all that matters_ ", he echoed. They felt silent and watched Linda, grateful for each heaving and falling of her chest under the blankets.

" _You know, when we all were in the hospital the last time. I mean when you saved Chloe_ ", Maze started quietly, after some time. " _When_ _we_ _saved Chloe_ ", he corrected automatically. " _Yeah, when we couldn't bring you back and I sensed you got stuck, Linda suggested that she'd pop down and get you out._ _That is, before your mum turned up. We were pretty much in panic._ " Lucifers eyes widened and he stared at Maze. " _What on earth made her think she'd go down to hell?_ " he inquired. " _I asked exactly the same, and she'd said "there things about me you don't know"_ , Maze replied. " _I really have no idea what she was talking about_ ", she added. A pause.

"… _but at least now we might have a chance to ask her_ ", she added in a barely audible whisper. He added in the same hushed voice, " _…and do something about it_ ". Together they sat in silence and waited until Linda feebly stirred and trashed, as she slowly regained consciousness.

There was no question of who of them would go in first to see Linda! And while Maze was with her friend, something strange happened to the Devil: He fell asleep in the chair, his head slumped against the window to Linda's room. He felt cold inside, shivers running over his back, for the first time in his long immortal live.


	3. Chapter 3: No Courage without fear

**Chapter 3: Courage is not the absence of fear**

" _Linda, look at you!"_ A resonating, vibrating voice, full of regret and sorrow. Linda surfaced again from her dazed state of mind and slowly forced her eyes open. Maze's visit had delighted but also exhausted her. " _Lucifer_ …", she acknowledged his presence, stirring slightly, " _I'm o.k…_." Despite the strong painkillers, every single inch of her body hurt as if she had wrestled down a truck. A burning egoistic goddess truck, to be precise. She had known that this woman would be trouble from the very moment she had set eyes on her in Lucifer's club, months ago.

Lucifer stood before her bed, awake again, now taking his turn to meet her after Maze. He was fiddling with something in his hands. He looked dishevelled, shaken to the core. Linda would not have suffered all of this if she had not met him, in the first place. If he had not confided in her, befriended her. Again, all he seemed to be able to do was hurt those close to him! Even with his supernatural strength he was simply worn out. He felt cold or feverish, or something else he was not used to, and bone –crushing tired. And his damn back hurt and itched.

Linda tried to focus on his tall, slender form and took in his appearance: The remaining bruises on his face from his recent fight with Maze (although most was healed), his dishevelled look as if he had dived head-first into the dirt (well, indeed he had), and the gaze of his dark eyes, now filled with regret.

" _This is my fault! I…I should have never have gotten you involved in any of this from the start…_ " he started. Lucifer was unable to sort out the onslaught of emotions that filled him when looking at her… it was somewhat akin to the grief he had felt after Uriel's death, but it was different…. _remorse_?, he wondered. " _Well, now…_ ", Linda replied, weakly. " _It is not as I haven't known that I was dealing with the most powerful…_ ", she hesitated, "… _well…"_ a pause again, _"…the most_ dysfunctional _family in the Universe…_ "

Somehow it was strangely healing and comforting to her to see him in distress. To see him, the Devil, as a friend - caring, co-suffering…. it was simply balm for her soul, she knew that by instinct. Including that she knew all the psych theory knowledge and studies behind the phenomenon happening to her. But she didn't care about theoretical stuff right now! Having him here as her friend, caring, simply felt as if the stupid "burning Mum-truck ordeal" had not completely been in vain.

She observed that he shook his head in disagreement. She knew him well enough by now to recognize, even in her dazed state of mind, that he was on the verge of tears (which he would never, ever admit, of course!), trying but largely failing to hoist up his typical charming smile as a shield to cover his emotional distress.

" _Lucifer_ ", she exhaled softly, chuckling hoarsely. There was still this stench of burned flesh in the room, now mixed with disinfection chemicals. It filled her nostrils and stuck in her throat. " _It is not as if I did not walk into this with my eyes wide open…"_ , she explained to him. _"Chose to be your friend, and face all that comes with that – the good, the bad and the crispy_ ". Pulling up a _joke_ here, on her near-death bed, was some kind of reversing the roles. The last time they had been close _he_ had been the one on a death bed, literally, and tried to hide his fear behind jokes about orgasm duration, and whiskey serving as a perfect pain killer.

He noticed her feeble attempt at distracting him and huffed, pulling up a forced smile, struggling. Then her words sank in. And it suddenly hit him! She had fee will and she had exercised it. She had decided – to be his friend, unbelievable as it was! After he had showed her who he was! When she was finally _able_ to decide – because she knew. And then she had _actively_ decided that he was important to her! And even now she seemingly stood by that decision. Did she really not regret it…?

He remembered a poster he once had seen in the kitchen of a suspect he had questioned together with the detective. It showed large floating icebergs in the Antarctic with penguins diving from an ice top into the Antarctic sea. One was falling, headfirst, towards the open water, the others on top of the iceberg seemed still hesitant to jump. The poster had carried the inscription "Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the decision that something else is more important than fear." Back then, he had found it _completely_ cheesy.

But now he had an epiphany of sorts since _that_ was exactly what Linda had done. She had had all the opportunity in the world to shut him out of her life after his reveal for good. No one had forced her to be his friend – no deal, no favour, no pleasure payment from his side could have invoked the same dedicated friendship than her active _decision_ after being in the _know_ about who he was. And she had dived head-first into the deep waters that lay ahead. If that was not to be called courage, nothing was.

She had even long before ceased to accept their sexual relationship, a thing he did absolutely not understand when she had refused him at that time. It had confused and even hurt him (just a tiny bit). Now it dawned upon him that her choice after the cheater-psychiatrist case had been because of a desire more important to her then "just sex": her genuine desire to help him. And that had been where her path towards becoming his friend had begun.

But Chloe, his detective…. He had not given her any choice at all. He had rather made the choices _for_ her, decided and done what _he_ thought was best for her. Was he so different from his mother, then? Mom had done all the time what _she_ thought was best for him, without giving a damn to his feelings and wishes! How angry he had been at her for neglecting his free-will rights!

 _Yes_ , he feared Chloe's rejection more than anything. _Yes_ , it would be his personal hell if she would never want to work with him, be with him, be his partner. Yes, it would kill him if his chance for opening a door to more than just friendship with her would close permanently, if all hopes died. And _yes_ , his father may have tweaked her origin to have him meet her. _So what, then?_ If he knew one thing about Detective Chloe Decker by now, it was that she did what she wanted, bull-headed, being no ones' marionette! He _owed_ her the same choice, the same free will he had given Linda. Now was the time: He had to tell her, and like Linda, take all that came with his revelation, love or hate, good or bad, heaven or hell.

Linda, of course, being the skilled therapist she was, had noted his inner struggle. "… _what_ …?" she inquired hoarsely.

" _I just had an epiphany, of sorts_ ", he replied, fiddling with the item in his hands, "…I just realized something that I had to do", he admitted. " _But let's focus on you, shall we? That's enough about me._ " He took the glasses he had brought from her office and carefully placed them on her nose as straight as possible. Linda smiled. How much he had changed, since the first time she had met a narcissistic Devil with a teenagers' behaviour, who was not even able to identify even basic (o.k., human) emotions when he had felt them! Linda felt really proud and fond of him at the same time – of her screwed-up Devil patient-friend.

But he surprised her even more, by showing first signs of un-devillish empathy. He knelt down by her bedside to be at eye level with her, and took her burned hand gently in his. " _Linda, this is actually the first time I really wish I still had my wings. I'd just take a feather or two and heal you, right on the spot."_ Linda gave him a quizzical look. His sad little smile hence morphed and he tried to put on his signature devil's smirk, in a feeble attempt to cheer them both up. " _Just think of all the upheaval we would be able to create here, with the doctors and nurses trying to find scientific explanations for a miracle!_ " Lucifer sighed theatrical, and she rewarded him with a hoarse chuckle, but without really understanding what he was talking about.

Lucifer hesitated briefly, then smiled. "…y _ou know what…? Amenadiel seems to have gotten his powers back, he's slowed time again… so, his feathers will be re-growing, I guess._ " Linda stirred, the inquiring look on her face deepened. " _Yes, Maze told me he did… if he hadn't regained his time-slowing powers in that moment, I'd probably be dead by now_ ", she stated, matter of fact. A little shudder went through her. And strangely, Lucifer felt a shudder run down his back, too. He also remembered Maze's words that Linda had been sure as to where she would be going to, when she died.

" _I'll get him to pay you a visit, or set Maze on it to make sure he will!_ " Lucifer sounded more confident now, "…. _least thing he can do! It was his scheming as much as Mum's, but as usual, The Devil gets all the blame!"_ he huffed in indignation, then murmured _"…not that I am not used to being blamed after millennia"_ under his breath. _"And then let's see if he dares to come up with some angelic pseudo-reason for not helping you!"_ Lucifer grinned _. "He can't stop midway, now, that he has acted already and saved your life by slowing time, it'd be a half-measure if he does not finish his work on you!"_ Lucifer seemed determined now. To him the path was clear. But not to her.

" _Why would having his feathers back help me heal, Lucifer?"_ Linda asked. Her voice still rasped. " _Why, since angel feathers hold divine healing powers, of course. Oh, I did not tell you so far? Anyway, ask Maze, she used my last one on Amenadiel after he got stabbed with one of her knives_ ", he suggested. Linda's eyes widened. She tucked this new interesting bit of celestial information plus storytelling away for questioning her life-saver demon friend later. She let out a deep breath. And a little bit of all the tension she did not notice was there finally left her. Perhaps, maybe, there was a chance to alleviate all the damage the goddess had done to her body.

" _But the most important thing is that you rest now and try to get better, my dear doctor!_ " Lucifer leaned forward and gently placed a kiss on her forehead, scanning for a place that was less burned. He had observed that humans did this, to show affection for one another when they were close, and Linda's reaction told him that this had been a really good idea after all. Despite her injured stinging skin, the body heat Lucifer radiated (maybe a bit less than she remembered) when he came close to her felt good, soothing "… _somehow_ _divine…_ ", she thought, and more tension left her. She wondered if Maze may have stored away more of Lucifer's feathers, in case Amenadiel would not be willing to finish his work.

Lucifer straightened up, still looking exhausted but also with an air of determination. " _Will you visit me again over the next days? I'd like to hear more about what happened, where you've sent your Mum, and all that…"_ Linda felt how sleep waves, reinforced by the narcotics, branded against her exhausted brain. She would have to give in to sleep soon. She cleared her throat. " _And_ _I need you around here, in case we manage to send the medical doctors into a 'miracles-cannot-be-real' mode_ ", she tried to jest. " _Yes of course, I will drop by tomorrow to see how you're doing_ " Lucifer confirmed.

" _But right now, there is something I need to do!_ " he added under his breath, murmuring. He had that distant but determined look about him again. Linda sensed that he had now finally worked up the courage to face his greatest fear and tell Chloe who and what he was. She sighed in relief. Finally, about time! She was so damn tired.

"…. _Hmm, give Chloe enough time to process everything, will you…_ ". Her language had become slurry, the drug-induced sleep finally took over. While Linda's eyes slowly fluttered and closed and a ghostly smile crossed her face, she added " _…and when you come back, tell me how she took your revelation…_ "

Lucifer observed her small injured form, noticing her deepening breaths, awestruck. How had she known what he was about to do? Was he _that_ transparent…? Well, it seemed he was, at least to her, with all her skills and knowledge of him. Now that he understood what a brave-hearted friend he had in her, he felt that opening up to her would only be fair, quid pro quo.

The strange dizziness and cold tiredness came over him again in waves, now that things were sorted out: Mom sent to a new universe (check), Chloe saved, all the humans on Santa Monica pier saved (including that brave little boy Luca), flaming sword taken out of function (check), the key that meant so much to Amenadiel retained (check). And now, convincing himself that Linda would make it, check. And equally important, that she did not blame him – something that he still struggled to understand, because he did blame himself. But her acceptance gave him a curious warm glow in the chest. He walked back to the sleeping doctor and gently took off Linda's glasses again, placed them on the bedside table, turned around, and left her room.

Maze's face lit up like a Christmas tree when he told her about his idea of using Amenadiel's returning powers to help Linda heal by using a feather of his. Ha, Maze would make sure as hell that he did not back out of it! Maze settled in her chair, to guard her friends' sleep and to keep an eye on the nurses and doctors (her scanning-for-sex-candidates mode switched on again). Tomorrow when she was sure that Linda was safe, she would hunt down Amenadiel and pluck him like a chicken if needed!

Lucifer walked down the hospitals' entrance area on his way out, twisting his aching shoulders back and forth. He wondered if he had finally cached what the humans called the flu, because these cold shivers running down his spine had increased in frequency and intensity. But never mind, he was probably just a bit exhausted. Some swigs from his flask before he made his way to Chloe's doorstep would be sufficient.

This one thing was left that he was determined to do, finally. The most important of all. His detective needed to be given a choice, free-will choice. He would not repeat what his mother had done and force upon the detective what he thought was best for her. His fears of losing her be damned! The Devil was not a coward. No more going backwards! Not that he assumed that she would chose him when she knew the truth; that was out of question. He knew he had screwed up her feelings for him, with him vanishing and marrying, the whole "Candy shield" stunt he had pulled to distance her from him and from his celestial screwed-up family. But then, at least she would know the "why" and "how" to everything and be able to choose for herself.

If he was lucky she would be willing to continue working with him. But on fair grounds then, informed grounds. He thought of Linda's words. He was ready, finally, to willingly accept the consequences of his revelation. To give the detective a true choice, to take him or leave him.

He felt the mobile phone burn a hole in his pocket. He stepped out of the hospitals' entrance into the cool night breeze that, surprisingly, made him shiver even more. The bushes behind him rustled in the night-time breeze.


End file.
